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Around the Loop with Mr. Siggi

Siggi was, even early on, easier to walk with than Raudi. An account of a representative jaunt follows. This one took place on December 10, 2009.

Gudmar riding Siggi at Virginia Crawford's clinic

It had been a few days since Siggi had been out – the weather had put a halt to riding and horse walking. It’s been windy here; this combined with bouts of rain had led me to believe that I ought to focus on indoor things, like making cheese and cleaning tack.

Raudi and Siggi are used to being walked. I’ve taken them around our mile loop hundreds of times, both ways, in all kinds of weather. This has been beneficial – they’ve learned to disassociate themselves from the herd and to mind their manners. Raudi’s main goal in life as a walker has always been to get there, and get there fast. Where is of no consequence. Siggi has never had walking-related goals. He likes to kick back, check out the vegetation, chew on the lead, and sniff the manure. For this reason, both in their own way have been equally challenging to work with.

Having the loop walk has also exposed them to differing things. There are 12 or so residences on the Oceanview Drive, Samovar, Sybarite, Murphy Road Loop. There are no zoning laws in our area, so things are always changing. One week I kept track, we dealt with Pat and Ray’s hanging sheet ghosts, The Fithian’s Toyota for Sale sign, Nancy’s upright river kayak, and Kirby’s new solar panels. We’ve encountered bicyclists, snowmobilers, truck drivers, and occasionally, snowplows. We have our share of hoarders. There are a few old Anchorage People Mover buses on Mike’s lot. And across the road is what I call the Volvo graveyard. A Fairbanks family comes down every August and the Mr. works selling sweaters at the Palmer-based Alaska State Fair. They come, they go, and each year they leave another vehicle behind.

I call our walks the “review of the hood” because it’s an excuse for me to see who is around, who is gone, and who is doing what. It’s good for the horses too, to be exposed to kids, dogs, and drunks. The drunks (there are two sets) tend to hang out by their respective bonfires and play loud music. The horses pay them little mind. (The goats were fascinated, and wanted to socialize. This is why I had to give up goat walking for a while.)

Another benefit to the horses is that they’ve learned to stand quietly while I talk to neighbors and passersby. They enjoy the attention, and what I say is affirmed, Icelandics, which are a cold blooded northern breed, are much calmer than their hot blooded southern counterparts.

Siggi’s outing. I accessed the situation. It was slippery, and unlike Tinni or Raudi, he did not have ice shoes. But he did need to get out. So I decided to chance it. A mistake? I thought so, as a third of a mile down the road, I fell down. My legs slipped out from under me, and I fell on my butt. Siggi, unconcerned, walked over to some fireweed stalks and began foraging. I stood up, grabbed his lead, and continued on.

The loop consists of gentle up and down hills. For Siggi, going up has always been easier than going down. At the top of the first downhill stretch, he put his head down and began doing what I call the Hoover Maneuver. This has always been his way of keeping his weak backend from overriding his stronger front end. As in the past, I slowed his momentum by repeatedly asking him to whoa, by stroking him with the wand. As always, he obliged. He was, I think, glad to have someone tell him what to do because he can’t do this on his own.

Half-way around the block, a mother moose and her calf stepped out into the road. Moose are quite common around here, except during hunting season, when they head for higher ground. Siggi’s head went up and his eyes bulged when he spotted them. They moved on, up the hill, and we continued our walk. Once we were past them, he lost interest.

Three quarters of the way around the block, and I hear it, the distinctive sound of a snowmobile coming up behind us. I turned Siggi around, and together we faced it. Because the snow was, by now, falling heavily, all we could see were the two bright headlights, and a bundled up, helmeted figure. I held on to Siggi as the driver flew by, leaving the altogether too foul smell of exhaust in its wake. Siggi jumped around some, and became bargy. I well knew what was going on. Siggi was not bothered by the machine, but rather, he was beginning to fade, focus wise. Keeping upright on slippery ground is difficult for him and requires considerable concentration. His having to spend three months in a small enclosure has also caused the muscles in his rear legs to atrophy some. And so, we stopped often, so that he didn’t have to think so hard about what was coming next.

Once we were back home, I put Siggi in his pen, gave him some hay, brushed him, cleaned his feet, and examined bite wound from Tinni on his side. It was looking quite good—in the next few weeks, I decided, I’d resume working with him under saddle.

Alys
Pete
Raudi
Siggi
A MooseEncounter
Around the Loop
Backing Siggi
Siggi’s Big Day
Tinni
Bootleg
Rainbow
Jenna
Goats
Chickens